4-13-14
by Riu1122
Summary: John's 18th birthday. Not intended for children. Contains gore, death, rape, crushing, cumflation, popping, lots of blood, and mild macro.


When the doorbell rang, The Knight of Space opened the door almost immediately. The short, wiry Heir of Light still had his finger on the button. His eyes widened at the celerity of the response, then smiled and waltzed right in.

"Hey Dave! What's up?" he greeted merrily as he walked through the door and into Dave's house.

Dave shut the door and said nothing. John turned and looked back at the blond boy, and asked, "Hey, anyone up there?"

Dave chuckled, and finally responded, "Sorry, John. Just thinking, is all."

"Uh-huh. So, why did you want me over?"

Dave didn't answer. He smiled enigmatically, and walked up to John. The size difference between the two was astounding. The Heir was not a hair above 5' and slim, while The Knight towered over him at 6'5" and broad. The short brunet was forced to crane his neck nearly straight up in order to continue looking him in the eyes, or well, face at least (no one could look Dave in the eyes with his omnipresent shades). Dave gestured vaguely up at the ceiling, "Hey, how tall do you think it is?"

John screwed up his face in confusion, "I dunno? 12 feet, maybe?"

Dave looked up pensively, "You think so, huh?" He paused. "Well, let's test that theory out."

John was about to ask what the fuck he was getting on about, when something strange happened. Dave appeared to be… growing. His head was inching upwards, so that he towered over John even more, and his shoulders and body expanding out, decreasing the already small amount of space between the two boys. His tee-shirt, formerly loose fitting, now was becoming more and more tight, highlighting Dave's not-negligible musculature. His pants too became tight and tighter, drawing up several inches above his ankles, and revealing a bulge in his crotch that told John he was a whole lot bigger than the tiny brunet in a lot of ways. John took a step back as Dave passed 7 feet tall. The rate of the blonde boy's growth increased, and he passed 7'1" and 7'2" twice as fast as before. His shirt was drawn taut across his meaty pecs, and had been pulled up enough to reveal the first two rows of his defined abs. John had always known Dave was pretty well in shape, but he had never realized that he was ripped til this moment. Dave's pants, likewise, were now incredibly tight, revealing every contour of Dave's package, which easily appeared to be twice the size of John's junk. John took another step back, and then another, backing away in fear and awe from the giant in front of him. His eyes were now even with the massive boy's abs, as he shot past 7'6" and then 7'8", growing even faster all the while.

Dave began chuckling loudly as he grew, then with his two huge hands he gripped the front of his now-tiny shirt and pulled. There was the sound of several loud pops, and the entire shirt ripped away along the seams, revealing Dave's well-developed muscles. Dave let go of the tattered remains of his shirt, letting them flutter to the floor. His chuckle grew into a full-blown laugh as his growth accelerated even more, his now-ultra-deep voice booming from his diaphragm causing John's very bones to vibrate with the frequency. Dave shot past eight feet, and showed no signs of slowing down. On the contrary, his growth was still just getting faster.

The button on his jeans popped, shooting past John's face at a deadly velocity. It was amazing it had held even that long, really. Dave reached with his massive paws and hooked his fingers in the waistband of the pants, and just as with his shirt before, ripped them right off. If anything, it seemed to take even less effort this time; the pants tore clean off and Dave looked as if he were ripping a piece of tissue paper. The blonde, shaded boy was left in nothing but a pair of straining boxer-briefs; it was almost comical seeing the red undergarments struggling (and failing massively) to contain Dave's monstrous genitals. His family jewels were simply massive even in comparison to his 8'9" frame; there was no way those things were growing proportionally to the rest of his body. Every detail of his enormous junk was discernable through the fabric, and in some places it had already begun to tear, revealing patches of cock and ball flesh. His testes were the size of John's head – no, maybe a bit smaller, it was hard to tell and John didn't care to approach the expanding behemoth to find out the exact dimensions – and overtop of them, coiled up in what looked to John to be an uncomfortably tight position, was Dave's massive trouser snake. Between the still-yet-to-be-bursted underwear and its coiled up position, it was impossible to tell the exact length of the cock, but John was willing to bet it was somewhere in the vicinity of two feet, still totally soft.

As John admired (though perhaps that's not the right word for the fearful gaping he was really doing) Dave's package, the boy was still growing, up and up more. Past 9 feet now, John was sure, but it was becoming difficult to get an exact read on the exact height of a giant who towered over you by a good four feet. John had backed a good distance away from Dave, but as the boy continued growing he was forced to keep stepping back as he took up more and more space in the large foyer.

There was the ominous sound of threads popping as Dave reached 10 feet; the very sound John had been dreading. Dave's bright red boxer-briefs had held all they could, but the fight was fruitless from the start. The strained pair of underwear was rent by the enormous pressure, and was burst open right along the seam. Dave's package flopped out, swinging ponderously between his legs. His balls were now easily larger than John's head, and were so massive that they reached practically to his knees. His cock was now so long that it hung even farther than his balls, swaying just below his knees, still flaccid. The massive genitalia was so out-of-proportion to the rest of Dave that John knew that it had to be growing faster than the rest of him.

Dave looked down at his "tiny" best friend, "Whoops, sorry John. Didn't mean to give you a free show. Usually I make guys buy me dinner first, but hey we're bros, so it's cool." He laughed again, his voice now a powerful, floor-shaking baritone. By now he was passing 11 feet in height, and finally his growth seemed to be slowing.

And not a moment too soon, as his head was now dangerously close to the ceiling. He inched up, slower and slower, John still staring speechless, eyes darting from the giant's head to his genitals and then back again. Finally, Dave's expansion stopped, just as his hair was beginning to brush the ceiling, 12 feet above.

He laughed again, the floor now very noticeably quaking, "Ha! You were right on the money, dude. 12 feet even."

John was trembling visibly now. He gulped heavily under the gaze of his naked friend. "D-Dave! What the hell is going on!?"

Dave lifted one of his massive arms, and scratched the back of his head in a casual motion intentionally meant to show off his guns. "Gee, Egbert, I don't know what the hell you're talking about. I just was testing to see if your guess was right." The giant boy tilted his head upwards, his hair making a soft shushing sound as it brushed lightly against the ceiling. His bespectacled (beshaded?) eyes were mere inches from the white stucco ceiling. The blond pursed his lips and whistled, "Wow Egbert, really didn't think you had such a propensity for estimating height."

John took a step back as Dave lowered his gaze from the ceiling and focused it back on his tiny friend. Dave laughed, "What's wrong Egbert? Not scared of your best pal, are ya?" John took another step backwards, and Dave's face darkened somewhat and he too took a step, but towards his much smaller friend. Dave's legs were orders of magnitude longer than John's and his single step brought his massive foot only a few inches from John. Instinctively John shuffled backwards some more, away from the frightening appendage, only to trip over his own feet like a moron and fall sprawled out on his ass.

That deep, booming laughter came back, sending vibrations up John's spine from his contact with the floor. "Holy shit, Egbert, you really are hopeless." John began to scramble, trying to sit up and regain his footing, but as he sat, the giant in front of him moved with lightning speed. His monstrous foot shot forward and collided with John's chest, flinging him back onto the ground and pinning him down. His head slammed against the hardwood floor and stars shot before his eyes. Dave's foot remained on top of him, the toes inches above his head, the ball right on his chest and the heel conveniently located on top of his pelvis.

"Whoops, sorry dude. Hope your head's alright." Dave raised an arm again, flexing his disproportionate musculature. "Hard to judge my strength at this size." His face contorted into an evil grin, smirking down at his best friend beneath his foot. "I'm just so much bigger and stronger than anything else around me."

John struggled to think of something to say. Something that would make his friend stop. But he could think of nothing; this was a situation he would have never even thought to foresee.

Suddenly, John grunted and gave out a small yelp as the foot on his chest grew a hundred times heavier. "Hey John, you did so well at guessing the ceiling's height, let's play another game." The force on John's chest increased slightly as Dave leaned just a bit further forward, "How many pounds of my weight are crushing down onto your chest right now?"

John said nothing; even if he had had a reasonable estimate (several million tons was the only number coming to his head), he wouldn't have been able to voice it. The initial push had forced all the air out of his lungs and now, despite his best efforts, his chest could not expand to accept more air. His lips moved helplessly, and his eyes rolled back as he suffered the simultaneous pain of crushing and asphyxiation. He had never experienced anything worse in his life; the panic of being unable to breathe, the simple pain of being compressed, that nameless feeling like nails on a chalkboard of something just being plain wrong, that his body wasn't meant to feel like this that his organs and skin shouldn't be shifting the way that they were.

Dave frowned again, "What, you don't wanna play?" He increased the weight, and heard a crack. Probably one of John's ribs. "That's no fun. I'm going to have to entertain myself then." He leaned back lessening the weight on John. "Well, what am I going to do then?" The brunet on the ground sucked in air with the suddenly negative pressure; oh thank god Dave was letting him go it was all fine- And then suddenly the weight returned in full force, and then some. "Oh, I know!" Dave said happily, mimicking the voice of an excited child, "I'll play my own game: 'See how long it takes to squash a bug!'"

John began struggling, beating his hands against the huge foot pinning him down. Dave ignored it, and simply leaned forward, now balancing about half his weight on his "friend." John's arms dropped, suddenly too tired to do anything. His brain couldn't form thoughts anymore, too clouded with pain and panic. Deep, desperate grunting emitted from John's throat; he lack the air to turn them into actual screams.

Dave tsked, "John, now, can't you be a little more graceful? Die with a bit of dignity?" The panicking boy gave no indication of hearing. "Really? Fine, have it your way." Dave grinned again, a twisted, broken smile. "Been good knowing you, man." He shifted all of his weight to his front foot.

There was a small crunch from beneath Dave's foot. A shiver went through his whole body, and his colossal dick jumped slightly. That sound was always so strange to the giant blond, the anticlimactic sound that a life made when it was snuffed out. Dave loved it.

He lifted his foot. Macro stories he had spent his developmental years obsessing over had always been so reticent on the details of the aftermath; more often than not, there was nothing but a red stain on the carpet or the ground. It seemed stupid to the giant; humans had weight and substance to them, where do you think that all went? He examined the wreckage before him.

In all honesty, it actually took a bit of work to make a human unrecognizable via crushing. John's corpse was clearly that; especially with the worst of the damage hidden beneath his clothes. His torso was still very clearly human-shaped, though the quickly-spreading bloodstains along the sides revealed where his skin had split to allow blood and even some organs to spill out from the pressure. Similarly, blood dribbling from his open mouth, and likely there was more in his throat. It was the pelvis that was the worst. Unlike the chest, which collapses flat so easily, the pelvis is one huge bone, and given enough pressure it's going to snap somewhere. Dave couldn't appreciate the exact nature of the death this time, but even with John's shorts on, he could tell it was a bloody mess. Damn him, he should have made the brunet undress first.

Dave's cock was chubbing after his examination of his dead friend. He gripped the base of it; far too wide to get his hands around, and stroked a few times. He turned from the body, and began thinking. How big, how big? 8 feet should probably do it.

The blonde shrunk rapidly, much faster than he had grown, stopping at eight feet even, still huge, but at least a bit more normal. His muscles were still vastly out of proportion to his body, and his still-half-erect dick was the same. He was a bit vain, after all.

He turned and looked the still-unmoving body. He felt butterflies in his stomach, but he silenced them, continuing to watch the corpse intently. The several seconds that passed felt like years to Dave, until finally he saw it happen.

It started with a glow. White light appeared to emanate off of John's body, and for a second Dave could swear he heard a ticking clock. John's body rose up into the air, shining brighter and the light began to shift in hue. It was blue one moment, then red, and green, the colors mixing and changing more and more rapidly as they brightening ever more. Some sort of liquid, glowing in the same polychromatic light, dripped from John's form. Dave had never quite figured out what that was, his blood? Some magic fluid from the Aether? Oh well, it didn't really matter.

The light reached its peak and suddenly was gone. John lowered back to the floor, landing gracefully on his feet, totally devoid of any fatal injuries. He looked around. His face was haunted, and his eyes had bags beneath them. God tier powers can revive you from death; but they don't take away its memories… or its pain.

Dave rushed forward. Why waste time? He grabbed the recently-revived boy about the neck and lifted him, slamming him against the nearest wall. John's fingers instantly came up to his neck, clawing at Dave's vastly bigger hands, his eyes wide with terror. "Hey there Johnny boy, so good to have you back, man." Dave chuckled. "Now, as you might've guessed, killing you makes me mighty horny. So I'd suggest that when I let go of you, you get on your knees and start worshipping me like the little, pathetic bug you are, or I might just decide to do it again." He tightened his iron hold on John's neck. "Only slower this time."

He released the boy, and he fell to the ground and collapsed in a heap, sucking in air. Dave grabbed his hair and yanked him upright. "Now get started, you little bitch." John coughed, still desperately trying to regain his breath, and stared at the prodigious package in front of him. He bit his lip, how was he meant to do th-?

His thought was cut off by a hard blow to his face. He fell sprawled out on his side, mouth filling with blood from Dave's savage backhand. "When I say get started, I mean fucking get started NOW."

John rushed to get back to his knees, and grabbed the massive cock about the middle with both hands. Even two-handed he couldn't get his fingers all the way around it. He tried stroking it, awkwardly. The dick wasn't fully hard yet and already well-past two feet in length. He stroked up and down the length, trying to please the angry blond god in front of him.

"Don't be such a pussy, use your tongue, bitch." John didn't dare question him or hesitate. He dove forward, licking the head of the cock, while his hands reached pass it to continue stroking the shaft. Where he was on the floor, he was at the perfect position to lick and suck the head of the cock while it was still semi-hard, but as it pumped more and more full of blood and stretched forward and up, John was forced to move his head to the side somewhat to allow it to pass by his ear and grow right past his head. He licked its side, running his tongue across its length, or at least what he could reach with his mouth.

Dave suddenly lifted the cock, drawing it out of John's reach. The brunet looked up to see what the gigantic blond was doing, and suddenly the cock was released, slapping thickly onto his face. John could see nothing but Dave's cockflesh. Not wanting to disappoint the man, his tongue darted out and began licking the underside of the cock. The shaft was so massive that it was just about as wide as his face, and despite his best efforts with his mouth and hands, he felt like he was doing almost nothing. Dave moaned all the same, though, and a moment later, John felt a drop of something thick and heavy land in his hair. Precum.

John scooted back, causing the dick resting on his head to slide down his face, the tip leaving a trail of precum on his hair and over his forehead. He leaned back so that the cock left his head entirely, and then grabbed the massive glans with both hands, pulling it down to his lips. The cockhead was unimaginably huge, larger than his fist. Hell, larger than both his fists. The massive slit was drooling a steady stream of precum, which ran down the underside of the head and down the underside of the shaft. John stuck his tongue out and lapped at the stream. The liquid was slightly salty, and unpleasantly warm. Another huge droplet welled up, and this time John used his hands to spread it around, slicking up most of the cockhead with the single, massive drop.

Dave grinned, and chuckled, prompting John to glance up at him. Holy hell, the giant looked even more huge when looking up from this angle. "Good idea, Egbert. You're gonna want to get my cock as slick as possible. Might make what's coming next a bit easier for ya."

John's eyes widened. "Y-you don't mean… Y-you can't!"

Dave's face twisted with anger. He reached down and grabbed John's hair and yanked him to his feet. He bent over so that John was staring directly into his shades, "Listen hear, you little cunt. I can do whatever I want to you and you can scream and cry all you want, but I'm going to get what I want from you." He dropped John. "You have… let's say, 30 seconds, to get me as lubed and slick as you can. After that, your ass is mine."

John wasted no time. He jumped forward at the erect cock and began slobbering all over it. He was openly sobbing by this point, interrupting his desperate ministrations with frequent hiccups. His hands were gathering all the precum they could leaking out of Dave's cockhead, and spreading it all over the vast surface. Luckily, and it was the only thing that was lucky for John right now, Dave had quite the copious output, and there was more than enough precum to coat the entire surface of the cock.

"Time's up." Dave said, voice deep and commanding. He hadn't really been counting, but his dick looked lubed enough for what he had in mind. He leaned over and grabbed John's shirt and tugged. The poor, bloody, fouled fabric ripped like tissue paper. He grabbed John under the armpits, lifting him up. He held him with one arm, and did the same to his shorts and underwear, hooking his fingers through the waist and tugging with sheer force, the clothes ripping along the seams, and leaving John completely nude. Dave grabbed him again and pressed him up against the nearby wall, using it to keep him suspended in air. Dave adjusted his cock, putting it into position just below John's hole. The brunet tried to squeeze his legs together, but Dave grabbed them and pulled them up and out, forcing John to bend his knees and spread his legs. John's back was now pinned against the wall, and Dave held him up by his legs, his small pucker as open and available as it could possibly be.

John's face was red, and his eyes were puffy from crying. "Please, Dave, don't do it… I thought we were friends."

Dave's face was unreadable. He stared into John's pleading eyes for a second, and the violated brunet thought he saw a hint of regret play over the blond giant's features. "You're right," He said, softly, more gently than he had said anything so far, "We are friends…"

John smiled. But only for a second. Because right after saying that, Dave thrust up savagely, impaling John on the first several inches of his cock.

He screamed. It was pain worse than he could imagine. It was worse even than being crushed because at least that had been mercifully fast. This was a tearing, a deep fiery pain that shot throughout his whole lower body that wouldn't stop and John knew it wasn't going to stop until Dave was done with him. The cock was too big, too impossibly big, and it was a physical impossibility that it was inside of him, but John knew that it was all the same. It felt wider than a tree trunk, it felt like it was going to rip him in two.

He looked down. There was nothing inside of him but the head, at least two feet of shaft still lay outside, waiting to enter him. And there was already blood dripping down from his grotesquely stretched anus.

John felt lightheaded. He felt like he was about to faint. Dave seemed to be indifferent to this fact. He yanked down on John's legs, dragging him down along the wall, and forcing his dick farther up into John's guts. Red flashed before his eyes, and for a moment he could see nothing but a supernova of pain. He let out a choked squeak.

Again, Dave yanked downwards, sending the cock further up John's large intestine. The pain shot upwards like lightning bolts emanating from all throughout his body. John wasn't even sure what was going on; was Dave ripping right through the lining of his guts? Wasn't that how some guy died who tried to have sex with a horse?

"You're doing so good, John baby, you've taken at least a third of my cock," Dave leaned forward and bit John's ear, "You only got about 20 inches or so left."

Dave let got of John's legs and took a step back, removing the brunet from the wall. The lithe boy was now supported by nothing but the dick that was slowly ripping him apart from the inside out. Gravity forced him down, slipping down an inch or two, agonizingly slowly. Dave wrapped his hands around John's chest (his mitts were so big in his augmented state that his fingers could reach all the way around), and shoved down. The flash of pain that accompanied the motion was practically familiar to John now, but the sudden bulging out of his midsection wasn't. Dave's cock was now inside of him so far that it showed through his stomach, poking up like a pole pitching a tent at some dark, morbid carnival.

Dave laughed, the same condescending chuckled he'd been giving all day. "Look at that, man. It's almost kind of cute." He lifted John up slightly. Though the cock was exiting John's body somewhat, it was no better than it being shoved in further; the very act of moving it fired off so many neurons that every tiny shift was a stab of pain.

Dave pulled John up until the bulge disappeared from his stomach, and then savaged rammed him back down. The cock penetrated even further this time, pushing out the flesh of his belly even more; the tent was being pitched higher. John made another choked sound, and fought the urge to vomit. He had been wrong; forward thrusts were much worse than backwards ones.

Dave seemed indifferent to John's discomfort. No, actually he didn't. He seemed to _enjoy_ John's discomfort. Everytime the brunet whimpered, or squealed, or gave an involuntary wince or jerk of pain, he felt the iron-hard cock inside of him throb in pleasure. Dave lifted him up again, farther this time, til only a couple of inches were left inside. It was amazing the difference that made to John; suddenly the horrendous pressure was alleviated somewhat. But it only lasted a second, and then Dave pushed down again. Once more, he reached new depths, stretching out John's stomach beyond the capacity that he thought it could have stretched.

Dave paused like that for a second, letting go of John's chest with one hand to feel the bulge of his own cock stretching out the skin of his midsection. John felt woozy. There was something disconcerting about seeing his stomach like that. He didn't dare look down at Dave's cock. He didn't want to know how much was left, and he knew that there was going to be more of his blood on it if he did.

Dave's hand returned to John's chest. And the blond once more lifted him up, so far that only the head of the cock remained inside him. And then he stopped. John dared to look at Dave's face, afraid that the gesture might be seen as insolence. The giant looked contemplative. "Hmm.. I think I'm sick of looking at your little bitchy face." And then, faster than John could blink, Dave spun him around, and without hesitations slammed him down again. The difference in angle made it so that instead of poking straight out his belly, it now ran more parallel to his stomach. This was good because another thrust like the ones Dave had been giving would have probably ripped his entire abdomen right open. It was bad, though, because now the dick was being jammed up further into his abdominal cavity than it ever had been before.

John could feel, actually _feel_, his organs being physically pushed out of the way. There was a sickening squealch from somewhere inside of him, and John felt bile rising to the back of his throat. He refused to let it pass his lips, swallowing hard to keep it down, but it didn't get the acrid taste off his tongue, and nothing could stop the constant pain that shot throughout his body.

Dave seemed done with taking it slow; just as soon as he had pushed John down, he yanked him right back up. He continued until, once more, nothing but the head was left inside, and then shoved it all right back in again. And then again, and again.

John had thought the slow strokes had been torture, but now it was the same pain, just repeated more often. Every in and out stroke felt like someone taking a whisk to his insides, and he knew things were moving around that really shouldn't be. He tried to make his mind go blank, but all that kept popping up were images of anatomical charts he had seen in Biology, of all the vital organs and things that were all stuffed so close together. He looked down at his belly, through it he could see the outline of the long, impossibly thick tube pumping in and out, the visible bulge starting right about his own pitifully small, soft cock and moving up as Dave slammed down savagely, past his belly button, up his stomach, til, oh god, it was lost at his chest.

_He's inside my chest_. Oh god, oh god. John could feel Dave's breathing growing heavier and heavier, could feel the warm air on his neck. He felt like a rag doll, held in the hands of this giant, being torn apart.

Dave grunted, and groaned as he continued. And then, he pulled up, and gave a long grunt, and slammed his little ragdoll down harder than he had all night. Something was different on this one; John felt something inside of him give, something tore, he didn't know, all he knew was that sudden a pain worse than anything he had felt thus far ripped through his body. He screamed, long and loud, a sound of pure terror and pain, and suddenly he felt something wet down below and heard a wet splatter.

Too confused with pain to think, John looked down. On the ground was a small, but growing puddle of blood, being fed by the steady flow leaking out around the cock plugging his hole. He felt sick, but his muscles didn't have the coordination to make him retch. Dave didn't give him a chance to recover, either. Even as the brunet screamed, he started the next thrust. If anything, they grew more frequent, more fervent.

He was out-and-out panting now, but even so managed a chuckled, "haha...nngh...Egbert," every word was punctuated by more heavy breaths as he pumped the boy on his cock up and down, indifferent to the steady stream of blood now flowing over his cock and down his legs, "Loo-looks like I, unggh, popped your cherry." His cock throbbed inside of John, who was now sobbing and groaning incomprehensibly. "Oh god!" Dave moaned, the frequency of his pumps increasing ever still. His arms, as muscled as they were, were starting to show signs of tiring, and Dave had a sheen of sweat all over his body. "Yeah-!" he grunted, jamming his cock as hard as he could into his former best bro, "Here it coomes!"

John was only vaguely aware of what was going on anymore. His existence had turned into a long chain of physical stimuli, all unpleasant and most potentially fatal. Even so, he was distantly aware of the feeling of Dave's cock throbbing within him, pumping larger than it had during the entirety of his sodomization. Thick ropes of cum began shooting inside him, spreading the feeling of warmth throughout his chest. It wasn't pleasant; nothing was pleasant right now, but it was different and strange. Just as soon as one shot tapered off, another began, and Dave didn't stop thrusting all the while. They were slower however, and accompanied by his grunts and groans and whispers of "fuuuck!" and "god, yes!"

The orgasm, like everything else about Dave, was extreme, impossible. Every spurt felt like a gallon being unloaded into John's body, and every spurt was following immediately by another, no less copious. John felt his body begin to stretch, his stomach ballooning out every so slightly, rendering the outline of the dick that was killing him ever so slightly more indistinct. And every wad just made it bulge out more.

From below, John could feel more of the warm wetness spreading over his legs. He didn't know if it was more blood or just Dave's jizz. He looked down. It was both; a frothy pink milkshake dribbling down Dave's dick and puddling on the floor, with his blood. Like strawberries in the summertime. That made John giggle, madly.

Dave was still going strong. John looked at his belly again. He now had quite a gut. It was beginning to hurt as well, the same horrible discomfort that being stepped on had caused. The feeling of his body being expanded in ways it wasn't meant to. How long ago was that? An hour? Two? Or less?

Dave kept pumping. His arms were aching, and John's head was now lolling loosely everytime he jammed him up and down. His stomach too was bulging out grossly. And Dave wasn't even near done yet. Every spurt increased the girth of the growing belly. It was like the game from earlier, only now it was "See how long it takes to pop a bug."

John's stomach was grossly distended now, expanded far beyond the limits that it should be capable of. But Dave still had some juice left in him. He pumped harder, his arms practically screaming in protest, but it was a good pain, the exhaustion of having used his own hands to kill his best friend twice. His cock throbbed inside John, squirting his seed into the boy, stretching him out even more than before.

There was a sudden ripping sound. Again, it wasn't what Dave would expect for the sound of a man dying. It was as if paradox space mandated that the final noise of any living thing had to be an anticlimactic whimper of some sort; maybe an intentional reminder of the inherent insignificance and mortality of a human life. John's stomach ripped open. That was another thing; Dave had never really considered the possibility of skin actually ripping. But it was happening, and he watched as his own cum spilled out in a flood, mixed with the bright red of John's blood and the darker burgundy of his intestines as they spilled out with it all.

Dave nearly laughed when he realized he could see his own cockhead sticking out of the newly made hole in the twice-made corpse of his former friend John. It was still spurting cum, but less now, the flow finally dying off, adding the last few drops to the deluge now spreading across the hardwood floor.

He pulled John's body off of his cock, a wet shlucking sound accompanying the action. He dropped the corpse unceremoniously, letting it land in a tangled heap in the puddle of its own blood. He examined his softening-dick. It was absolutely covered in blood and cum and god knows what else. That's why he hated doing this.

But it _was_ John's birthday.

The revival took less time this time, and then John was left sitting, naked, in a puddle of his boyfriend's cum and his own blood. He jumped to his feet, and jumped into Dave's arms. The huge blond caught him, returning the embrace. John laughed, and Dave released him, dropping him back to the soaked floor.

"God! That was amazing, Dave!"

The blond was shrinking, returning to his normal height, "Yeah, man, I guess."

John stuck his tongue out, "You _guess?_ Please, you were enjoying that even more than I was!"

Dave, now back to a comfortable six foot five, leaned forward and took John full on the lips. When the kiss broke, he said, "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I think it's that good of an idea. God tier powers aren't to be trifled with. What if we do that again and you don't come back?"

John rolled his eyes, "Yeah, cause death by giant cock during a roleplay session gone awry is soooo heroic."

Dave sighed. "Well, we're not doing it again til next year."

John smiled slyly, "Not even on your birthday?"

Dave's cheeks reddened, in spite of himself. In truth, he would like that… "Not even then. Now come on, we gotta get this place cleaned up. Dirk and Roxy are making us dinner, and everyone's gonna be there."


End file.
